The sadistic pleasure I derive from keeping my stomach empty is starting to overwhelm me so much that I’m doing that just to please myself. I’m not trying to starve myself; I’m just using the emptiness to inject some reality into my life. Not eating only fuels my anticipation for dinner and the end of the day. My perspective has changed; a hungry person like me is never an angry person. It’s a person who’s even more driven to surpass others on an empty stomach. I’m currently cultivating this habit to curb my reliance on others, as well as to knock some realism into me. Life isn’t a bed of roses; you can’t always have a cake, not to mention eat it.
Perhaps I’ll just deviate a little here. You know how it feels like to have someone let you down over and over again. I should learn to grow accustomed to such situations, since they’re befalling me repeatedly, monotonously and it always happen with the same person. I’m over with being fed up; I’ll learn to trust no one else but myself, since I’m the only person who will never let myself down over and over again.
And over and over again.
Not even my empty stomach.
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